Guilty
by Bluesmokeglamour
Summary: AU in which a particular scene went just a little bit differently - but the consequences are life changing for Kurt and Blaine.
1. Chapter 1

This is sort of like my little baby - something that's been playing around in my head since that scene (which has yet to be confirmed in the fic so I'll keep that one a secret for now - although with a bit of thought you could probably work it out) aired. I needed to write it all down because it was driving me crazy, so I sat in Costa and wrote out the first chapter. I decided to write it out here for somewhere more official than my little moleskin - and for anyone interested to take a read for something perhaps a bit different to your average Klaine fic.

Let me know if you liked it, if you didn't (keep it constructive though guys - I don't know how many 'This is crap' comments I can feasibly take), if you want me to continue, etc etc, I'd love to hear what you think!

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><p>"And then what happened, Kurt?"<p>

Kurt's shoes shuffled in the claustrophobic witness box. The stench of past guilty suspects' sweat and nerves hung around his nose, mixing sickeningly with the expensive scent of the interrogating barrister's cologne, making him more queasy than he already felt in the current situation.

His memory reluctantly dragged itself back to that day, the day everything went a bit topsy turvy. The limp body lying frozen on the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, the eyes of several accusing students staring, stunned, at the scene before them. Kurt clutching Blaine's blazer lapels, sobbing incoherently into his chest, Blaine's guardian voice telling him that he was there and that everything was going to be okay.

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><p>Grey clouds masked the night sky as the pair sat in Kurt's garden, swinging on the little chair hanging from the oak tree, huddled together to shelter from the impending temperature. 2 hours they had sat in the same position, barely speaking. Kurt's head rested gently on Blaine's shoulder, while Blaine strung a protective arm around the back of Kurt's neck, holding him close. The distraught sobs had faded long back and now only the faint stains around Kurt's lids gave him away.<p>

Kurt glanced slowly up at Blaine, whose eyes were gently resting closed. How, in all the people present at Dalton, had he chosen him from the crowd on the marble staircase? It seemed like a thousand lifetimes ago but in actual reality it was mere weeks. Equally, how had it been Blaine, of all the students present at the scene, who had caught him? Wiped away his tears, brushed him off, and picked him back up again? And Kurt couldn't help but touch on the idea that after all this was over he would leave him.

Blaine's puppy eyes opened and caught Kurt's glistening gaze. He smiled a reassuring smile and tilted his head. Kurt blinked, and a hot tear ran down his pale cheekbones as the idea of Blaine's imminent departure lingered in his thoughts.

Ever understanding and patient, Blaine simply shushed Kurt back into his chest, rocking back and forth as though nursing a baby in his arms.

He took Kurt's face gently into his hands, looked him in the eye and said calmly "Kurt, listen to me." Kurt peered out at the boy through blurry eyes, choking back additional sobs. "Everything is going to be okay. I'm here for you every step of the way."

He'd heard the words before. Many a time, in fact, in the past few days, but every time he heard them they meant something more to Kurt. Kurt's lips curled into a smile to imitate Blaine's, but before he could become content, the reality of the situation came flooding back.

"I can't go to prison, Blaine," he muttered, his eyes falling shut as he fought back the taps. He looked up again at Blaine through wet eyes. "They'll _kill_ me."

Kurt broke again. Tears traced silent lines down his cheeks like a mute river, shaking over his vibrating jaw-line and falling with a splash onto his collarbone.

"No," Blaine cut in, tenderly thumbing away the fresh droplets and pushing a strand of wet hair out of Kurt's eyes. "No, you won't go to prison."

Kurt swallowed away a weep. "H-how c-can you know?"

"Listen to me, Kurt. It was an accident. _He_ pushed _me_ first, you were just defending me."

"I don't understand Blaine, that's not what-"

"He fell, Kurt. You pulled him away from me, and he fell."

_**To be continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

So hello! Chapter 2 was far more difficult to write that chapter 1 - it flowed off the page less, and took a fair bit longer. However, being a filler chapter of sorts, it was to be expected.

Anyway, I wanted to point out that I cut a lot of the _actual_ scene out, because everyone has seen that already - so don't be alarmed when it skips!

I've got big things lined up for the final chapters - so stay tuned!

Enjoy :)

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><p>"Kurt?"<p>

The wood-panelled and marble laced courtroom hit him like a slap to the face. He slammed his eyes shut, wishing for Blaine's understanding eyes to be there once again, telling him, _assuring_ him that there was no need to fret or worry or cry.

"Kurt, if it's difficult, just take your time." He opened his eyes to see the judge in her authoritative podium shining down like a replacement saviour.

He concentrating, conjuring up the image in his mind for what was hopefully the last time.

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><p>Blaine had seemed nervous that morning. He assured Kurt that wasn't the case, and that he was just tired from a late night. But Kurt wasn't buying it. He simply didn't believe it.<p>

They stood before the school, together, just outside the gates across the empty road. It was around 10am, and Kurt had reluctantly skipped his first few lessons to wait for Blaine, but it was worth it for what he was about to do.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to you know, Kurt. If you're worried I can go alone." Kurt glanced across at Blaine as they crossed the road, whose eyes twinkled reassuringly in the morning sun.

"Neither do you." Kurt shook his head purposefully. "No, we go at this together."

Blaine smiled slowly, his eyes lighting up. "Together."

Blaine kept his head relatively low as they walked quietly through the school, towards the languages department. They would catch him as he came out of French towards his calculus class next period.

Kurt had never seen Blaine like this, and it worried him. He saw him tense as a senior student bumped roughly past him, shooting him a dirty look. Kurt guessed he wasn't used to the mild atmosphere of aggression that consistently hung in the hallways at McKinley, in complete contrast to the welcoming vibe he had received in those few hours he had spent at Dalton.

The concrete stairs had risen before them in the same way they did everyday for Kurt. Just as ominous, just as intimidating. If he didn't see him here, he'd see him in the next corridor, or the next – and it chilled him to the bone.

"Just let me do the talking," Blaine instructed, suddenly regaining some of his confident stance. He may have been fooling the students around them, who suddenly seemed to part like the Red Sea as they ascended the concrete stairwell, but he wasn't fooling Kurt, who shot him a concerned look from the corner of his eye.

And then, without warning or caution, he was there, turning the corner, proud and cocky as ever, as he did just like clockwork everyday.

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><p>"I- I don't know what you're talking about."<p>

"It seems like you may be a little confused. And that's totally normal." Karofsky turned swiftly away from Blaine and Kurt towards the stairs, trying to block what had been a painful and awkward conversation from his head. "It's a very hard thing to come to terms with, and you should just know that you're not alone."

Blaine's confident voice rang through the stairwell, bouncing off the cold concrete and piercing Karofsky from behind like a dark. Kurt watched as the muscles in Dave's neck tensed rapidly, spreading through his shoulder, down his biceps until finally his hands wound tightly into a ball.

David twizzled on the spot, revealing his clenched jaw and flaring eyes, and try as he may, Kurt couldn't quite decipher whether they were livid with the deepest rage or revealing the painful dent in his pride.

Before Kurt could react, Karofsky, like an animal, was racing towards Blaine, his hands reaching out to seize Blaine by the collar. Kurt's head raced and his heart beat out of sync, willing Blaine to put up a fight, defend himself, but his arms only flew up in defeat, his eyes full of fear, his lips quivering. He took the necessary steps backwards with Karofsky, like some sick flamenco dance in which Karofsky was the dominating lead and Blaine was the innocent female, before colliding with a crash into the steel railings.

"Do not mess with me," Karofsky growled into Blaine's face, his voice cracking under a mix of rage and despair.

Before he could contemplate any sort of plan, Kurt was flying into action, his words blurring into but a muffled noise in his memory. He grabbed a handful of the letterman jacket that hung loosely around Karofsky's frame, and without real calculation of strength of force, he pulled Karofsky backwards, breaking the intense atmosphere hanging between Blaine and David.

And then all of sudden, moments seemed to roll slowly together and time seemed to stop on those stairs in that life-defining instant. A flash of fear mixed with solemn knowledge washed over David's face as he met eyes with Kurt on his frightening way past. His heals clicked each other, catching on fabric, and his feat began frantically searching for solid ground beneath him. His arms swished out through the air, reaching, but never quite catching a handhold. A silent no uttered from Kurt's lips as he reached out a helping hand, frantically clasping at David's outstretched hands, but the clammy surface simple slid from between his own sweaty fingers. Their eyes met once more, anger no long filling David's expression, but was replaced with a dark acceptance as his body fell helplessly, cutting air and twisting in the light breeze.

Kurt watched motionless as the limp frame tumbled and twisted past each stair, every turn more agonising, every crunch from the lifeless body ringing through Kurt's ears, a new lump in his throat, a fresh cut to his guilty conscience.

Kurt's throat was parched. He attempted another cry but the sound wouldn't come. He slammed his eyes shut, immersing himself into darkness, falling into the safe embrace of Blaine as his knees lost control and crumbled beneath him.

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><p>"And then... and then he fell."<p> 


End file.
